


The Peace Talks in Camlann

by Shippy-Things (seraphic_gate)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F, M/M, Multi, mikleo and alisha are siblings, rose trying to seduce a prince but falling for a princess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphic_gate/pseuds/Shippy-Things
Summary: Posing as Pirate Princess Edna, Rose needs to seduce a prince (because Edna can't be bothered) and there are two really good prospects, both plenty good-looking, but they're a little more interested in ruins (and uh...  each other) than her feminine wiles.  Plus there's a rival princess and she's super hot so that's definitely a problem.  But every problem is an opportunity in disguise, right?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, this is total stress relief for me because all my other fics seem to be at a very crucial juncture and I'm having a hard time brainstorming. So please enjoy some ridiculous royalty AU.

Lady Edna had refined tastes for someone who lived on the open seas, sitting out on the deck in a yellow dress with fine white lace parasol to shield her skin from the sun’s rays.  She never seemed to tan, always porcelain pale and blonde-haired, not a freckle on her.

Rose had been tanning up rather nicely since joining the crew, and thanked her lucky stars she’d been a merchant before this.  She knew all the best skin products to keep her own skin from blistering up under the hot sun.  Being called up to Edna’s private deck, she figured she wasn’t about to be asked about that, though.

“I have an assignment for you, Rose,” Edna said, looking out at the ocean with an unreadable expression.  “You’ll be going to Camlann for the annual international peace conference.”

“Oh, nice!  I’ve always wanted to set up shop there, but the venue is almost impossible to book.  If you got us a booth, I know we’ll make money hand over fist.”

“You’re not going to be selling wares.”  Edna didn’t quite smile, but the twinge at her lips gave away a hint of humor which did not make Rose feel comfortable about whatever she was about to say. “You’ll be attending as Princess Edna of the Aifread Pirates.”

“Princess?”  Rose scoffed.  “Since when are we a monarchy?”

“Stupid nobles don’t know anything about how our hierarchy works, they’ll believe anything.”   


“Okay, that aside, why am I going as you?”

Edna turned her nose up, haughty.  “Because my brother is already known far and wide as our leader, and my name is associated with him--not that I like it that way, it is what it is.”

“Some kind of scam, then?”

Enda nodded.  “Hm.  There are two princes, both the age eighteen.  One is from Rolance, and the other from Hyland.  I want you to chose one, and get him to marry you.  It’s getting far too inconvenient for us to be chased all over the ocean by  _ both _ nations.  Having one or the other in our pocket through marriage will give us safe harbor and unofficial military cooperation.”

“To marry me?”  Rose sighed.  “I’m up for a good scam and all, but how exactly am I supposed to get one of them to marry me?  That’s a lifelong ruse.”

Edna stood up from the table where she had been eating her regular tea and cakes, and looked directly at Rose with a sly grin.  “I’ve chosen you because I know you’re good at figuring out what people want.  What  _ men _ want.”  Then, after this rare praise, she stuck her nose up again.  “I find it difficult to fake interest in dull noble types.”

“Hm.”  Rose tapped her chin as she thought.  “A prince is a pretty high tier target, but what’s life without a little challenge?”

Edna gave her that clever smile again.  “I knew I could count on you.”

* * *

The nation of Rolance was unbearably hot in the summer, which was why Sorey could never understand why he must be forced to wear such heavy clothing.  The loose white shirt he wore was simple and made of soft, high-quality fabric, but unfortunately it was only the bottom-most of three layers, with a quilted doublet in Rolance’s crimson red over it, and ceremonial armor over that.

The armor would be serviceable in a fight, but the wing-like decoration on his right shoulder would only hinder him, and the whole point of peace talks were to not get into fights, or even look like you were looking for one.  “I can’t wear this,” he said.  “I think it sends the wrong message.”

Sergei was his brother, and older by ten years.  He was also the king of Rolance, and his time was such a rare commodity that Sorey hated to argue about anything when they had a chance to talk.   


Sergei looked at him, brows furrowed, thinking.  “This is why it’s better you go,” he said after a while.  “The idea never would have occurred to me, but you’re right.  Armor sends a militant impression.  Let’s try it without.”

Sorey sighed in relief as the servant attending him began to unharness him from the elaborate armor.   


“You still want to look strong though,” Sergei said, while looking over what was available.  The royal wardrobe was full of finery once belonging to their father and mother, armor and jewels alike.  “This!”

Sergei pointed to it and had the servants bring out a mantle with a fur collar that resembled a lion’s mane.  It was adorned with a gold clasp in the shape of a lion’s head to complete the association.  Sorey held back a groan and made himself smile through it.  At least this, he could remove when he was out of sight.

“I think that strikes quite a powerful image,” Sergei said, admiring his choice on Sorey.  He grinned and slapped his brother hard on the back.

Sorey laughed and put the outfit out of his mind.  For just a moment he felt like he could be Sergei’s little brother again, instead of the King’s only heir.

“Give them a smile like that, Sorey,” Sergei said.

“What do you mean?”

“When you meet the prince and princess of Hyland, just smile like you always do, and I’m sure you’ll earn their friendship.  That is your strength, Sorey.  You have the ability to make friendships that will stand in spite of any political strain.”

“Do you think they’ll like someone like me?”  Sorey had heard the reptation of the twin brother and sister of Hyland--maternal only, they looked very little alike.  The rumors said despite their differences, both were equally beautiful.

“Everyone does,” Sergei said, chest swelling up with pride.  “And Sorey, as I hear it, the princess is courting, perhaps you can--”

Sorey cut him off with an awkward laugh.  “Let’s try making friends with our neighbors first of all.”

* * *

“Wonderful, wonderful!”

The string quartet stopped playing as the queen of Hyland clapped her hands fast and loud, smiling and looking as if she might jump off her seat at any moment.

Mikleo slumped his shoulders, trying to ignore the pain in his foot where his sister had stepped.  “If by  _ wonderful _ you mean  _ slightly less worse than last time. _ ”  At least she hadn’t been wearing that heavy armor or she may have broken it. 

Alisha pouted back at him.  “I’m sorry, I’m trying!”

Queen Lailah sat in a chair at the edge of the ball room, dressed in white and gold as always, as if ready to attend the world’s most expensive wedding.  Although she was shirking her duties that day to look in on her stepchildren, she was nonetheless opulent in her tiered dress and crown.

“That was the best yet!” Lailah said, encouraging, seeming in awe of Alisha’s slightly less clumsy performance.   


Mikleo knew however, that Alisha would be ashamed of herself if her dance was anything less than perfect.  “Again,” he said, and took the lead with his hand on Alisha’s waist.  The quartet began to play again.

Of the two, Mikleo was much better at maintaining the persona of austere beauty, while Alisha was the steadfast knight.  “I swear, if I put a knife in your hand, you’d dance circles around me, but play some music and you’re all left feet.”

“Please Mikleo, I must not make a fool of myself in front of delegates from far and wide!  I’ll dishonor our nation.”  She said it with the seriousness of a soldier about to fight for the crown.  The fine silk ball gown was so incongruous with her stoic disposition, he had to keep himself from cracking up.

“You need to relax, that’s the whole problem.  Come on, stop tensing up and let me lead you.”

It was a strange feeling to lead Alisha, and maybe that was the real problem.  She was the leader, the soldier, the hero.  He had realized at a point during their maturing years that it was Alisha who was meant to rule.  She had the spirit to magnetize the people, and the resolve to lead them.  Mikleo’s chest swelled with pride at the idea of advising her as queen, of being the keen dagger at her side to be drawn when her swords and spears failed her.   


Unfortunately, that was why she really needed to learn to dance.  If she took the throne she’d be expected to marry and produce heirs.  Mikleo secretly enjoyed the idea of being let out of that obligation.  He wanted to read books and study ancient artifacts, and avoid marriage and children all together.  But if Alisha was ever going to find a proper husband, she was going to need help.  A  _ lot _ of help.

“Ah, sorry!”

Maybe Mikleo’s foot was getting numb, because he hadn’t even felt her step on him that time.   


“Let’s take a break, Alisa,” he said, doing his best to smile warmly.  “Maybe you won’t have to dance at all.  Maybe I can do all the dancing and you can just talk to people and look lovely.”

“No!”  Alisha balled her fists.  “This is one challenge I cannot back down from!”

He sighed.  There wasn’t any stopping her when she got like this.  “All right, then we’ll try once more.”

* * *  
  


“Did that just...?”   


Rose couldn’t believe the ease with which she was accepted into the highest tier of society.  Not just nobility.  Flat out  _ royalty _

“Sure did.”  Her man servant tipped his hat.

Rose wasn’t sure yet if she was pleased to see Zaveid had been strong-armed into this by Edna, or if he was going to muck everything up.  She supposed her persona wasn’t believable without at least one huge, partially-shirted pirate to bark orders at. 

“This place is kinda nuts,” she said.   


The city of Camlann was on a plateau at the border of three lands.  Throughout history, this small scrap of land had been jerked back and forth like the last bone between three hungry dogs.  Only in the last fourteen years, since both King Sergei and Queen Lailah had ascended to the thrones of their respective countries, had enough parties involved learned to  _ chill _ long enough to get Camlann declared a neutral and independent land.

Once each year, delegates from the surrounding countries, as well as many interested parties from around the world, came to Camlann to discuss the politics of their various lands peacefully, amongst a group of their peers.  It had also gained a reputation for the event where royals met their future spouses, as many princes and princesses seemed to announce their weddings shortly after, every year.   


The events were held in a castle just beyond the township, built recently.  Rose found it impressively lacking in defenses, more like a cathedral, really.  It had beautiful stained glass windows and spiraling spires that reflected the clear blue of the sky.

They let her in.  They greeted her as the illustrious “Princess Edna.”  Edna had been right.  Wear enough gold, and these idiots would believe anything.

And she was wearing a ton of gold.  Literally, she assumed, considering how heavy it was.  The circlet was such a small thing, but weighed so much.  The metal itself was heavy enough without the chestnut-sized sapphire in the center of it.   


The yellow topaz drop earrings were worse, stretching her lobes.  Her necklace, a riviere of diamond and gold.  Gold bangles on her wrists, her fingers studded with emerald.  She wondered how much of it was real and how much of it was colored glass Edna had put together for show.  All these gemstones clashed with her bright red hair.

The dress itself was supposed to say “I’m a pirate!” as loudly as possible, with a striped corset that pushed her non-monetary assets out, both the bust and the butt.  The skirt was split down the right leg, revealing a garter and heeled boots.  It might have said “most expensive prostitute ever” if not for the giant plumed hat that completed the look.   


Edna said to give it an eyepatch, but Rose managed to talk her down.   


Thanks to all that ridiculous costumery, Rose not only made it inside--they showed her to  _ her room _ , where she would be waited upon by servants.   


“Pretty swank,” she said, examining a silver bowl of exotic fruits.   


“But nothing compared to the bounty of the sea, right?”

Rose rubbed her forehead.  This was going to be really difficult if Zaveid kept overselling it.

One of the servant girls addressed her without raising her eyes.  “Will your servant be needing separate accommodations?”

Rose looked at Zaveid.  She would have rather they stayed together, but if she split the room with him, there’d be rumors by tomorrow that he was a special kind of servant indeed, and that would impede her efforts to seduce a husband.    


“Yes, you have servant quarters, don’t you?” she said, waving her hand dismissively at Zaveid. “Go settle in and I will summon you when you are needed.”

“But I  _ really _ should stay and protect my princess.”

She spoke back to him through grit teeth.  “Your  _ princess _ needs her  _ privacy. _ ”

He frowned.  “Yes, your highness.”   


The girl bowed to excuse herself and showed Zaveid away. 

In her room’s window was a stained glass illustration of the ancient ships that had first crossed the sea from lands beyond.  A nautical theme for the pirate princess, she figured.  Through the colored glass she could make out the landscape of Camlann.  On the horizon was the looming silhouette of  Artorius’ Throne, a fortress made in ancient time, now ruined.  It was a constant reminder of the history of this land.  It could not be forgotten despite all the pomp and ceremony these naive nobles applied towards trying to.

None of her concern, though.  She was here to seduce a prince.  That meant filling her role as a mysterious pirate princess with riches beyond imagination, so she stretched out on an ivory-colored divan and threw her feet up.  A servant came running to remove her shoes for her.   


“So what’s happening at this shin-dig?” Rose asked the remaining girl servant, who was busy filling her a glass of wine.

“Tonight the ceremonies open with a ball,” she said, with a trained softness to her voice.

“So the royal delegates will mingle there, huh?  Perfect.”  She took the glass and sipped it.  It had a fine taste, unsurprisingly.  “I’m new here.  What else is on the schedule?”

“There will be sporting events in the days, and conferences in the evenings.  Delegates will be called to dine together for dinner each night, although many do share meals throughout the day.”

Rose considered that.  So then the first dance would be a warm up.  She’d get her hooks into both princes, give away just enough to get them curious, then play them against each other for the rest of the week, make it imperative that they ask for her hand before the other does.   


* * *

Sorey arrived in the afternoon without much time to prepare for the first part of this gauntlet, a fancy ball where he’d be expected to dance.   


He wore the red doublet and lion’s mane cape--which he intended to ditch at the first opportunity, after everyone had seen him in it.  Sergei would hear word of how regal he looked and nobody would remember he’d stashed it somewhere after his entrance.

As he entered the ballroom, he couldn’t help gaping across the floor of attendees, right past them all, at the view of Atorius’s Throne resting on the horizon through vaulted windows on the far side of the room.  He missed his cue when his name was announced--His Royal Highness Prince Sorey of Rolance, Duke of Lastonbell.   


There was a clamor of applause and comments like “isn’t he handsome” and “look how tall he’s gotten” as he entered.  Sergei being the favorite son of his people and now the king, he had happily existed up to this point in obscurity.  But now he was grown and people were suddenly interested in him.

Sorey liked people, he loved talking to them and learning about them.  The problem was that when they held him on a pedestal like this, it was impossible to talk to them on equal grounds.  He found himself awkwardly excusing himself from company, even though he hated being alone.

He stepped into the ballroom floor and no one was dancing yet, the music wasn’t playing.  Everyone was mingling and greeting each other.  A few dignitaries he recognized from Rolance came to compliment him on his beautiful mantle.  He laughed and thanked them, looking side to side for a way out.  The announcer saved him.

“Their Royal Highnesses, Crown Princess Alisha, Dutchess of Ladylake, and Prince Mikleo of Hyland, Duke of Elysia.”

The stir his arrival had caused was nothing compared to the hushed awe that swept the room as the twin royals from Ladylake entered.

Alisha had fair brown hair, almost blonde, pinned back on her head except for two elegant locks that fell curling around her face.  On her head was a silver tiara.  She wore a white gown cut exposing her perfect shoulders and a necklace of silver and sapphire.  The skirt of it trailed to her feet fading from white into brilliant cerulean blue.   


The prince was beyond blond, almost colorless, with white hair pushed back away from his face, and skin as fair as his sister’s.  His eyes stood out to Sorey first despite the elaborate finery he wore--deep night sky violet set against all that white.  Above them, on his brow, was jeweled circlet, and from his ear hung a sapphire drop to match her necklace.   His cape was the same vivid blue as the skirt of Alisha’s dress, and had crested white patterns made to resemble ocean waves at its edges. The rest was silver and white, carefully embroidered.      


Alone, either of them would have stolen all eyes in the room.  Together, they were more than royal guests.  They were an experience.

Sorey waited patiently for the throng of people to finish greeting them.  The music began to play, and the hall filled up with dancing couples, which relieved them of most of the crowd.  Sorey finally took a deep breath and approached the princess, who was closest to him.

“Good evening, Princess!” he started, a little too excited.  He had to sound like a noble here.  “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

Princess Alisha’s eyes lit up with recognition.  They were light green like decorative glass.  “Ah, Prince Sorey, right?  What a pleasure to meet you!”

He hadn’t expected her to greet him with just as much enthusiasm, and it set off a chain reaction in him.  “The pleasure is mine, for sure!”

“You already said that,” came a stern voice.  Sorey looked up to find Hyland’s prince glaring at him with those ridiculously deep eyes of his.   


“Oh, did I?”  Sorey laughed.  “Sorry, I’m not good at this stuff.”

“You either?” Alisha said, adding her own laugh.  “And I thought I was the only one.”

Mikleo folded his arms across his chest and huffed as if he’d lost at something.   


Sorey decided to greet him with his best smile.  “And Prince Mikleo, meeting you is quite an honor as well.”

That earned him a scary kind of sly smirk in return, not quite what he’d been hoping for.  “So should I hold that monstrous pelt on your shoulders while you dance with Alisha, or do you think you can manage not to trip over it?”

“Mikleo,” Alisha groaned.

“Oh, I’ve been trying to find a place to stash this stupid thing,” Sorey said with a chuckle.  “But I shouldn’t dance, not if you want your toes all in working order.”

“Oh, I’m horrid at dancing!”  Alisha blushed.  “But Mikleo’s an excellent teacher, and very graceful.  He’s able to teach even me.”   


“Oh yeah?  Maybe I could get a lesson, too.”

Mikleo scoffed.   


Alisha’s eyes sparkled.  “Sorey, will you be competing in any sports?”

“Sure!  Duelling, jousting, and long jump.”

“Ah, I’ll be duelling and jousting as well.  Perhaps we’ll have a match!”

“Wow, princess, you must be amazing to keep up with guys like me who are much larger than you are.”

“She doesn’t just keep up,” Mikleo said, the smirk returning to his face.  “I’ll wager you that should you manage to make it to the end, Alisha bests you in  _ both _ events. 

Sorey wasn’t sure if he was meant to be offended by that, but he definitely wasn’t.  He stared at Alisha in awe.  “You must really be good!”

“Mikleo’s quite good with swords as well, he fences--but he won’t compete.”

“Ah, why not?  It’s a no blood competition, there’s no harm to it.”

Mikleo turned his nose up.  “I don’t have anything to prove.”

“Huh...”  Sorey didn’t know if Mikleo was being antagonistic or if that was just his personality.  He honestly was too distracted by Mikleo’s appearance, his snow white features and his elegant posture, to think about it.  

* * *  


For the ball, Rose wanted to look rich and desirable, but still dangerous and wild--the kind of woman a man wants the thrill of taming.  The truth was better than fiction in this case, as rose was perfectly capable of besting men twice her size with a couple of daggers.  But, that wasn’t the narrative.   


She wore an emerald green off-the-shoulder dress with a slit in the skirt almost to the waist.  She had noticed that was a theme in most of her clothing.  In her garter, she holstered an antique weapon, capable of firing still, but otherwise for show.  She’d never use something so ornate.  It was there to draw men’s eyes to her thigh.  Her jewels this evening were all “diamonds” which toned down the obnoxious multi-colored ensemble from before, but only slightly.

That hat was still ridiculous.

As soon as she hit the floor, old-ass dignitaries from nations across the world wanted to talk to er.  She needed to move fast before she got stuck talking to them all.  Where were these princes?   


She spotted both of them, as luck would have it, standing together by a window.  Were they friends?  That would be difficult if they had a “friends before lovers” policy.  But wow, both were pretty handsome at least.   


The one she presumed to be the prince of Hyland, based on his water-themed cape, was short, but she could work with that.  He was damn beautiful enough that no one in their right mind would begrudge him a few inches height.   


And that would make the guy in the over-the-top mantle Sorey, the prince of Rolance.  Average height, tanned, brunette, and green-eyed.  He had a kind face and broad shoulders that told of his strength.

Honestly, as far as fake marriages went, she could have done a lot worse.

Instead of approaching either of them, she waited for them to notice her.  It took a while longer than usual, even without the outfit.  But then, finally, she overheard Sorey.  “Hey, is that the princess of the pirate nation?  Wow!”

She turned to make “coincidental” eye contact just as he was thinking of her, and initiate a love-at-first-sight move.  He was already looking at her legs, though.  That wasn’t such a bad thing.  Except--

“Excuse me, excuse me, sorry if I’m being rude, but is that the  _ real  _ Siegfried?”  Sorey was looking at the gun on her thigh the way a child looks at his cake on his birthday.       


“Why, it is,” she said, pulling it slowly from its holster, making sure to give him a good view of her leg. She held it out to him with a clever smile.  “Would you like to hold it, my prince?”

“Oh boy, I sure would!  Thank you!”  He completely ignored her come-ons and took the gun from her hands, turning it over and inspecting it, squinting, looking at it from all angles.   


_ Oh boy _ was right.  She had to change her tactics.  Mark A was a nerd.  Eizen would have a better time seducing him.  “You know that relic has been in my family for generations now.”

“Have you ever fired it?” Sorey said, looking up at her for the first time since they’d started talking.  He was cute, like a puppy.  Puppies just needed love and attention, and a little discipline, and they’d become loyal dogs.

“Why yes.”  She leaned in, placing her hand on the gun while allowing Sorey to hold it.  “If you’d like to see a demonstration, I’m sure that can be arranged.”

She heard Prince Mikleo snort loudly, obviously for their benefit.  “If nobody will ask you to dance, Alisha, then I will.”

“O-oh!”  Sorey looked over at them.  “Sorry, this is so amazing, I got distracted.”

“Alisha?”  Mikleo held his hand out.

“Must we?” she had a fascinated look on her face, eyes trained on the antique gun, just the same as Sorey’s.

It was then that Rose took notice of the beautiful woman Mikleo was with.  They didn’t look all that similar except in the tone of their skin and a shared elegant manner between them.  But their familiarity was too platonic for lovers, or even a courtship.  She was definitely his sister.   


“You practiced for so long, don’t you want to try it?”

“All right.”  She nodded to Sorey.  “I’ll see you tomorrow at swords.”

“At swords,” Sorey agreed, then turned his attention back to Rose.  “Do you have other pirate treasures?  Oh, and a canon?  Do you have a canon?”

Rose felt almost perverted manipulating such a pure boy.  She could invite him back to her room and keep him there all night--not that they’d get up to anything but looking at old books, most likely, but it would be really easy to do.

“Well, not  _ on _ me…”

* * *

Sorey chatted with Rose for most of the night.  He hadn’t expected a pirate to be so friendly, but maybe it was their disregard for social convention that made her easier to talk to.

Alisha too, had been quite affable.

But Mikleo, with his severe scowl and slicked back silver hair, had unnerved him. It wasn’t anything in particular he had said that offended Sorey.  It was the fact that he was trying, without even knowing him, without even giving him a chance.

Mikleo was the embodiment of the kind of noble Sorey didn’t want to be.  A prissy, stuck up highborn brat, who went around treating other people like dirt to be scraped off his shoes.  What if Sorey had been a less tolerant person?  What if Mikleo’s barbs and jabs caused lasting tension between their nations?  It was as irresponsible as it was just plain mean.

He found himself still restless after the activity of the party.  Being around so many people got him worked up with so much energy, which was a good trait for him if he intended to become a politician in Sergei’s court.  But he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while.

And Artorius’s throne was right there, after all.

* * *

Sorey slipped out of is room and into the courtyard, where some delegates were still mingling after the ball had ended.  Not that he’d get in trouble just for being in the courtyard, but he didn’t want to be caught in any long conversations.  So he snuck around the edge of the gardens in the shadows like a thief.

The wall was low for a stretch, and he leaped over, landing on the eaves of a building on the lower level.  

The guards posted at the exits were there to keep people out, so they weren’t facing in a direction to notice him.  They posed a problem for him if he wished to go any farther, though.

He crouched there thinking, and the thinking was what exhilarated him.  How would he work his way through this maze? 

He flinched at the sight of motion in his peripheral vision and thought for a moment that it must be a bird or cat, but when he turned his head, he nearly fell.

There was a young man beside him, dressed in simple black pants and a dark blue tunic laced up at the neck with a plain leather thong, no ornamentation or jewelry.  He had a sword on his belt as well as a canteen and a rope.  Sorey wouldn’t have recognized him at all if not for the snow white hair.

It was brushed down naturally with bangs hanging in his face, a white crest over his eyes that glared amethyst at him even in the faint light of a distant torch.

“ _ What are you doing here _ ,” he whispered, but none of the anger was lost.

“What are  _ you _ doing here,” Sorey said back, but it was pretty obvious that they were up to the same exact thing.

“Stealing off to visit your pirate princess in the night?”

“Why would I go to--”  He shook his head, baffled.  “And even if I wanted to, she’s in the guest rooms just like everyone else.  I’m trying to get  _ out of the city _ .”  It was difficult emphasizing his points while whispering.

“Just wait for rotation then slip out, we only have about fifteen seconds, so don’t get caught.  I won’t like it if I get caught because you’re too slow.”

“You studied their movements already?”

“You know it’s illegal to enter Artorius’s Throne, right?”

Sorey winked at him.  “Places that are forbidden only count if you get caught.”

“Bit of a wild streak, huh? Alisha has that, too.”  Sorey couldn’t tell if it was the near-darkness they were in, or if Mikleo was actually smiling.

“Where is she, did you leave her?”

“Like you would care.”

“What does that even mean?” Before he could press Mikleo for an answer, Mikleo grabbed his shoulder.

“Quick, they’re moving.”

They scuttled down the side of the building to the ground and moved as quickly as they could while still being quiet.  The guards faced the opposite direction, but they had a very small window of opportunity to slip out of the gate and get to another hidden spot before they turned.

When they were under the fire’s light for a split second, Sorey saw Mikleo’s face illuminated with a playful grin, daring him to follow.  He almost stopped in his tracks, it was so incongruous with the foppish Prince Mikleo’s condescending scowl from earlier.

They got through and off the castle grounds without being noticed.  

The city was dark and quiet at this time of night.  Sorey was glad now for the quilted doublet, because the air in Camlann had gotten cool quickly.  Once they had traveled north a few blocks, no one was following them and it seemed safe to talk so long as they kept their voices down.  “So, you want to see the throne really bad, huh?”

“The trip would be wasted if I didn’t.”

“What about your sister, won’t she worry?”

“She’ll be jealous I didn’t bring her along,” Mikleo said with a smirk.  “But she takes competition seriously, and went to bed at a decent hour.”

“Oh right, swords are tomorrow.”

“She will  _ crush _ you.”

Sorey laughed awkwardly.  “You have a lot of faith in her.”

“It isn’t faith, it’s fact.  She’s already won several competitions in Ladylake.”

“Ladylake is well known for sword and spear competition, both.”

Mikleo narrowed his eyes at him.

Sorey had no idea what had brought this on.  “What?”

“I’ve never met a Rolancian who would admit that point.”

He smiled at that observation.  “Really?  Well, just remember, I haven’t competed in swords before. So that could change.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep.  I alway stayed out of it.  The men would never take a real swing at me, anyway.”

“So how do you know you’re any good?”

“Because my dad and my brother both trained me.”

Mikleo rolled his eyes.  “But nobody ever held a sword to them either, I bet.”

It didn’t seem a good idea to bring up the numerous wars both had fought in, considering they had been mostly between Rolance and Hyland.  “If you think it’s so easy to beat me, you should enter.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Mikleo huffed that indignant way, and turned his nose up.  Sorey had found it so annoying before, but now it was kind of cute.  “You’re intolerable,” he said.  But he kept tolerating him, walking side by side with him into the dark beyond the city.

 


End file.
